Conversation Hearts
by Sean Montgomery
Summary: Part 2 of 7. Alone and contemplative on Valentine's Day, Lois gets an unexpected visit from Clark and discovers she feels more for her partner than she thought she did...


Disclaimers: I don't own anything Superman related. Except for all that stuff stashed in my room. But you didn't read that, right? ;)

Ta-da! It was a long time coming, but I finally answered the request of you readers and wrote the sequel to _Out To Lunch_. This one has a third part, known as _The Dance_, but you'll obviously have to read that one after this. Kinda funny that I wrote the beginning, the end, _then_ the middle, huh?

Special thanks to betas htbthomas, Alamo Girl, and Mark C for this one. You guys rock!

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

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Conversation Hearts

By Sean Montgomery

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"_Here's looking at you, kid."_

_Click._

"_Frankly, my dear, I don't give a--"_

_Click._

"_I'll never let go, Jack. I'll never let--"_

_Click. _

"_You had me at--"_

_Click._

With a touch of the power button, silence dropped into the room. Irritated and tired, her mind and body feeling numb, Lois set the remote back on the coffee table with a loud clatter, running her hands over her eyes and sighing deeply.

_Chick flicks. The only thing this day is good for is chick flicks. If it's not the roses with the street side vendors or the lingerie and phony love gifts at the store, it's the stupid chick flicks on every channel._

It wasn't like she felt like this every time February rolled around. She could plainly remember numerous Valentine's Days spent in pleasurable company, carousing with the current love of her life and forgetting her trials and troubles. Or the more recent memories of romantic evenings and late dinner dates with…

The phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. Reaching over the arm of the couch to grab the cordless, hoping the loud ring didn't wake Jason, she pressed the 'talk' button. "Hello?" she said, unable to stop the irritated tone in her voice. Who was calling her tonight of all nights?

_"Hi, Lois."_

She froze. "Richard?"

_"Sorry to call you right now. I'm sure Jason's asleep."_

"No, you're…" she trailed off, comforted at hearing his voice and, at the same time, feeling strange knowing that he was calling her. "You're fine. What's up?"

He chuckled, but she knew there wasn't genuine happiness in his tone. _"Actually, I was calling to ask how you were doing. If you hadn't answered the phone, I just would have figured you were out with someone."_

She had to grin at that. "You know me better than that. Lois Lane doesn't have a night life. Unless typing away at my keypad at the _Planet_ could be considered a 'night life'."

_"You have a night life, Lois. You could have taken Jason out."_

"We did go out, actually. We got fajitas and some of his special ice cream."

_"Good. I'll bet he enjoyed that."_

The tension in the silence could be felt equally between the two. Looking at her hand resting on her thigh, still not used to the lost weight of her engagement ring, she sighed. "Why are you calling, Richard?"

He paused for a while, obviously going over his answer. _The break-up must still be hurting him. God knows it still hurts me sometimes… _

_"I just wanted to make sure you're okay. It's kind of a hard holiday to spend alone."_

"Don't you worry, Richard. The little munchkin in my life makes every day Valentine's Day for me."

_"And his father?"_

It was Lois' turn to pause. Her thoughts turned to the skies, twisting in her seat to look out at the darkened night. "Out saving the world, I assume. He hasn't come by, if that's what you were wondering."

Why hadn't she tried harder to hide her bitter tone? She closed her eyes, feeling like the scum of the earth, knowing she hit a sore spot with him. "God Richard, I'm sorry. That was entirely--"

_"Lois,"_ His quiet tone stopped her. She could hear the heartache in his words. He had only meant to call her to see how she was doing, and she was getting defensive over nothing.

_"Lois, it's okay. Don't worry about it."_

She still felt horrible. She tried to rectify it by asking him how he was doing back with the _Planet_'s affiliate in Europe, and his answer was short and simple. The tension had returned. When he clumsily tried to end the conversation, it was her turn to stop him mid-sentence. Her voice was quiet, truly regretful. "I'm sorry we turned out this way."

She could hear the same thing in his voice when he answered her, _"I know you are. At the same time, I know you're not. And I don't blame you."_ Then his voice took on an entirely different tone. - genuine hope and concern for her well-being. _"Don't let the night end without seeing him, Lois."_

She smiled. "Not if I can help it. Somehow."

_"Good."_ They paused again. With dawning realization, the two suddenly felt that this would be the last time in a great while that they would talk. _"Take care of yourself, Lois."_

"You too. Goodbye, Richard."

He took longer in answering. _"'Bye, Lois."_

Pressing the 'talk' button was harder than it should have been, and the silence afterward was heavy with its intensity. Lois closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to overflow. Richard was a good man. And the break-up hurt. Even all these months later, when most would have been able to put the entire thing behind them, he still carried feelings deep within. He'd always be a father to Jason, and to her…

_He will always be the dear soul that kept me stable and sane through five years of misery. The one who helped me keep going. He'll always be a good man… it's almost a shame that he wasn't the right one. Jason's real father… he's been around, but what does that mean now that I'm back on the market?_

Putting a hand to her temple, feeling the faint throb of a headache, Lois was finally able to open her eyes without the threat of tears. Several things caught her attention right away – scattered crayons and papers from Jason's backpack that was sitting on the floor, the few books she had started and was having trouble finishing, the glass of wine she'd poured earlier, and a bag of Valentine's conversation hearts.

She stared at the hearts curiously. They weren't really something she liked to buy yearly, with Jason's allergies and her attentiveness to her figure after his birth. Richard had started the tradition, saying that you never knew what could come out of opening a bag. He had said that with a charming smile and a wink, opening the bag he had purchased and pulling out a heart and handing it to her. Whether or not it was on purpose she didn't know - the little heart had 'Kiss me' written on it.

Feeling like she had an odd connection to fate, Lois reached inside the bag and dug her fingers around for a bit, searching for the color that would satisfy her. Seconds later she removed a yellow colored heart from the bag, closed her eyes, and turned it around. She had no idea what she had expected it to say, but it wasn't satisfying to see a smiley face staring back at her.

_A smiley face! What kind of a thing is _that_ to have in a bag of Conversation Hearts?_

With a small huff, she popped the heart into her mouth and chewed, grateful that they were at least soft and not rock-hard like they usually were when left open for too long. Draining the last of her wine, Lois stood with her glass and made her way to the kitchen.

There was a knock on the door; soft and hesitant for two knocks, but a little louder for two more. Craning her neck to look into the kitchen, she found the clock. It was a little past eight. _Who would be walking around here on Valentine's Day? It had better not be someone from the _Planet… With her glass, she made her way through the living room and walked to the front door. Standing in the freezing cold with only his trench coat as his protection from the elements holding a long stemmed red rose and smiling confidently was…

"Clark? What are you doing here?"

At her curious glance, he looked like he wanted to hide under a rock. The hand he had in his pocket was now fingering the end of the long stem nervously. In seconds his poise had transformed into the timid and meek Clark Kent she knew too well. His shoulders gradually rose with nervousness while he talked. "Um, well… I uh…"

"It doesn't have anything to do with you standing out in the freezing cold, does it?"

"N-no! Um, actually…" His index finger rubbed against the pointed tip of the rose. Looking down at it as if noticing it for the first time, he stretched out his arm and offered it to her. "I was thinking that… um…" He started again. "With everything that's happened with Richard… uh…" Still not satisfied, he tried one more time. "I had a feeling today was going to be hard on you. I thought… I thought you could use a friend."

The quiet stretched on. Lois, now holding the rose in her hand, let it twirl idly in her fingers. Then, with a small smile, she met his blue eyes and held the door open wider. "What did I do to get a considerate friend like you?"

"Well, people shouldn't have to do _anything_ to get friends, Lois," he said, rubbing at the lenses of his glasses when they slightly fogged over once he stepped into the warm house. "And people shouldn't have to have a reason to do things for friends, either."

"Even the friends who bossed you around for years and never did anything to give you credit for what you deserved?"

He grinned, slipping his jacket off his shoulders. "Of course. It's those kind of friends who need the most attention."

While he slung his coat over his arm and continued grinning at her, Lois closed the door, then took a step back and observed him. He was still in the three-piece suit he wore to work earlier that day, and the small bags under his eyes suggested that something had been bothering him lately. She hardly knew Clark to have trouble sleeping (not that she would know), but it looked like there was more on his mind than he was allowing to be seen.

Forcing her mind from her musings, she reached for his coat. "Can I take that for you? Would you like to stay for a while?"

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. He couldn't contain the happiness from flooding his eyes, nodding his head enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah! If you're sure…"

"Why not? The closet's right there. Make yourself at home!" She began to make her way into the kitchen, then slowed down, turning around to face him and hoping that loopy feeling she was getting was the wine. "Would you like something to drink? Water? Juice? Wine? Or maybe…" She couldn't help the smile from floating on her face. "…milk?"

He had opened the closet door and was grabbing a hanger. Turning to look at her proved to be too much, and the hanger slipped out of his grasp, falling to the floor with a loud clatter. "Uh, no, no… whatever you're going to have is fine with me." He tried picking it up again, but it only slipped through his fingers, making him wince when it clattered on the floor. This time when he picked it up his grip was firm, more sure, and he slipped his coat on the hanger.

Shaking her head, Lois walked into the kitchen and pulled out another wine glass from the cupboard. Grabbing the bottle of wine she left out earlier, she made her way back into the living room. Clark was still standing in front of the closet, his posture saying he was feeling a little awkward, but his grin betraying any idea. When he looked down at her hands, he blinked. "W-wine?"

Not missing a step, Lois continued into the living room and sat on the couch, setting the bottles on the coffee table. "Yes, wine. You said you'd have whatever I was."

"Well, yes, I know, but… isn't wine a little… uh…"

While she popped the cork from the bottle and poured a small portion into both glasses, she glanced at him. Instead of moving into the room with her, he stood in the doorway with one hand rubbing the back of his neck while he eyed his glass nervously. She grinned. "Wine is a little…?" she prompted.

"Uh… in-intimate?" The word came out on a squeak.

"True. And you're over twenty-one. I think you'll be okay." Her grin stayed in place, hoping he would see the humor in her tone. When he didn't move, she frowned. "Look, Clark, if you're uncomfortable or something I'm not going to make you drink the wine."

"No, it's… it's okay." He took a step into the living room, then another, finally sitting on the farthest side of the couch and accepting the glass she handed him. He quietly lifted it to his lips, but then froze. Next to him, Lois lifted the flute straight into the air, downing the entire beverage in a series of large gulps. When she looked at Clark again, he was blinking back at her, the edge of his glass on his lips, his mouth partially open.

"What?" she said, giving him the same blank look. "You know how to hold your liquor, don't you?"

"Lois, you just downed that entire glass of wine."

She sniffed. "I'm a big girl, Clark. If there's one thing my father taught me thanks to his little military trips around the world, it's how to drink. Besides, this is only wine. You should see me after a few bottles of Russian vodka. You'd _really_ worry after that." She reached for the neck of the wine bottle. "I might even go for a third," she muttered.

Alarmed, he reached out his hand and stopped hers, her fingernails grazing the edge of the glass. "Hold on a second – you've had _two_ glasses of wine already? When was the first?"

"Just recently, before you came over."

His heart sank. He knew of her recent break-up with Richard, but he hoped the half-empty bottle of wine sitting before them wasn't a direct result of it. Lois wasn't one to take personal matters so deeply. Then again, she had been the one to win the Pulitzer on an article where she vented her anger at him… Her voice cut him out of his thoughts. "People have wine on Valentine's Day all the time, Clark. What are you worried about?"

Letting her hand go, he grabbed the neck of the wine bottle. "I don't care if you can stay sober with three bottles of alcohol in you, Lois – you're not having another drink while I'm here."

She slumped back into the couch. With the lighting hitting her face the way that it was, he noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed. "My God, Clark! What's the big deal?"

Standing with the bottle in one hand and his glass in the other, he stared at her. "Lois, you've drunk half the bottle in one night!"

"What makes you think that?"

Raising his eyebrows, Clark inclined his head to the coffee table. Sitting there in plain view was a crimson colored strip of tape, the same that came from the top of the bottle in his hands. She turned back to him. "And your point is?"

"Lois!"

"Clark, please! It's just a bottle of wine!"

Something in her tone made him stop. She sounded tired, worn out by a long week filled with late nights and whispers from co-workers. The controversy surrounding her break-up with Richard was the most popular discussion in the boardroom gossip groups. _Why would she break-up with a man who was nothing but a gentleman to her? It's not like Superman can take a day off!_ He noticed the slump in her shoulders, the heartache in her eyes when she would glance at his darkened office. Her ability to consistently provide front-page articles was slacking enough that even Perry was questioning her once highly praised abilities. In one moment, with a few words and a defeated tone, Clark understood why she was sitting alone drinking a bottle of wine on Valentine's Day.

His face softened. Leaning over, he set the bottle back on the table along with his glass. Never breaking eye contact, he sat back down on the couch. "I'm willing to listen," he said quietly.

Seconds passed and her eyes began to fill with tears. Blinking them away, she bit her lip and stared at the bottle of wine. A small smile played at the edge of her lips. "You always have been," she whispered. Turning to look at him, she took in the worn cotton fabric of his blazer, the blue and gold striped tie tucked into the brown vest, the horn-rimmed glasses and the gentle blue eyes behind them. He was looking at her intently, an invitation to speak if she wanted, but willingness to let the night continue if she wasn't.

Lois sighed and hugged a pillow to herself, her eyes staring distantly while she gathered her thoughts. "It's… a number of things," she finally said. "The wine… it's an old tradition Richard had. For five years he bought a bottle of wine and a bag of Conversation Hearts. We'd have a few glasses and have some laughs over the most random things written on them. His personal favorite was _Fax Me_. He thought it was perfect for office workers and our hectic lives. Our own version of a hidden message_. Get me my messages, call such-and-such a person, leave whomever a message and, by the way,_ fax me." She said the final words in a low tone, an amused smile coming on her face. "It's like the only way we communicate romantically is by using office supplies. The only language we speak." She reached for her glass and fingered the rim. "After a while, it became our inside joke."

She missed his small smile. "What's your favorite?"

With a smile of her own, she reached inside the bag and fingered through a few hearts until she found the right one. She passed it to him unceremoniously. "These stupid smiley faces. Who wants to eat something that's smiling back at them? Did we lose our creativity? I mean, we have _Kiss Me_, _Hug Me_, _Fax Me_, _I Love You_… why a smiley face? It's for Valentine's Day. It might as well say _Let's Get It On_."

Clark, unsuspectingly popping the heart in his mouth, choked. He coughed twice into the sleeve of his blazer, then took a few sips out of his flute. When he was able to look at her, Lois' smile was downright mischievous. "I knew you'd react like that."

"It might as well say _what_?" he said between a few more coughs.

"Do you really want me to say it again?"

"Actually, no." He grabbed the flute of wine again and took a larger drink. "No, please," he said again, setting the glass on the table.

Her smile remained. Thoughtfully, she reached inside the bag and pulled out a handful of the sweets, popping a few into her mouth without looking at the words written on them. "I never learned to like these things until recently. Jason could never have them, and Richard would only eat a few at a time. They'd sit on the table for days, getting stale and hard…"

Her voice trailed off. Watching her turn from amused to contemplative was strange. He was so used to seeing her have such fire, a natural flare to take charge and grasp hold of her life and all that came with it. Richard had obviously meant a lot to her, regardless of how their relationship had turned out.

"It wasn't easy breaking up with him, was it?"

She sighed. "I felt worse for him than I did myself. People would say that there was no one on earth who could fill the shoes of Superman in my life. Richard…" she smiled fondly. "Richard never took that seriously. He actually agreed. He always said he never wanted to replace Superman, but when Jason… when Jason was born everyone naturally suspected he was Richard's. The rumors stopped. People were happy to see me move on. Now…" She trailed off again.

"Now the rumors are back."

She looked at him, surprised. He grinned. "Well, you said it was a number of things. I doubted memories were the only thing keeping you down."

"Put yourself in Richard's shoes, Clark. You find a girl, you have a son you love dearly, everything is fine and wonderful for five years, then boom! Old boyfriend comes back, secrets are revealed, and flames are rekindled."

"Secrets?" His tone held genuine worry. "Does Richard know about Jason's parentage?"

She looked downright guilty. "I had to tell him eventually. Richard said he never took it to heart, but I think he understood that Jason was going to need his real father when the time came. How on earth was he going to explain why a five year-old could move a grand piano but his 'daddy' couldn't move the refrigerator?"

Clark became absolutely still. Lois couldn't recall seeing the bumbling reporter so frozen in her life. "He… moved a grand piano?"

Leaning forward, she looked at him seriously. "Clark, no one can know about this."

"Absolutely. I mean…" He stopped and tried something else at her look. "I won't tell anybody." Again, he said with a small hint of awe, "He moved a grand piano?"

"It was in Luthor's yacht. One of his cronies was… advancing on me, and Jason just reached out and… pushed it. It collided with the guy and smashed him against the wall."

For a moment she was fascinated by the overwhelming pride and joy that reached his eyes. A small smile began to grow on his face, but then it stopped just as quickly. He turned to her. "I assume you told Richard about that."

"I had to. What else could I do? What if he tore his shirt in half trying to put it on? What if he grabbed something and it shattered in his hands? What if Richard and Jason were roughhousing and Jason accidentally hurt him? Richard had a right to know. Jason… he's special. And it wasn't like that secret was going to be kept forever anyway."

Silence settled between the two. Clark could sense the unease flowing from Lois in waves, making her tense and quiet. Doing his best to stay in character, though he was filled with concern, he took the wine glass from her with trembling hands then reached for the wine bottle. Keeping himself focused on the task at hand, he ignored her curious glance when he held the half-full glass between them. Meeting her eyes, he did his best to look stern, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Only half a glass. You sound like you could use a little more."

For a second she only looked back at him. Then a smile that warmed his heart broke out on her face, and a small chuckle followed. Taking the flute from his hand, she took a small sip. "Thanks."

He grinned back and adjusted his glasses. "No more after that, though. Metropolis' finest reporter needs to keep her head on straight."

She rolled her eyes. "No pressure. Just take your personal life and put it on the back burner while paying attention to everyone else in the world…"

"I thought that was what you loved most about your job."

"It was," she turned to look at him, complete seriousness in her eyes. "Then I had a baby."

At the mention of her son – _their_ son, though she might not know it – a smile threatened to split his face again. He hid it by reaching for another heart, grabbing a white one and twisting it in his hands to read what was written. _Love her_. He quickly popped it into his mouth.

"Can I ask you something that might seem a little soap opera-ish?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Uh, sure." He squeaked.

She took a moment to gather her thoughts, chewing on her thumbnail while she did. "I think a lot about how Richard feels about this because I lived with him this whole time, but… what do you think Superman thinks about all of this? About Richard?"

For a moment Clark suspected that he would feel heartbreak of some kind, a complete turnaround of emotion at the mention of his romantic rival's name. Instead he only felt appreciation and respect. Richard was more than he could have hoped for when it came to Lois, someone who would love her to the same degree that he did. He didn't see or appreciate it as much when he came back, but in the long run, when he really thought about it…

"I think Superman would have been… grateful when it came to Richard."

His words made her turn to face him fully. She had his complete attention, curiosity mixed with surprise. "Grateful?"

"Why not? A good and responsible man was able to take care of you when he couldn't. He made sure you were safe, he took care of you, he was a father to Jason… I think he couldn't have asked for a better person to watch you while he was gone."

Something at his words made her next question die. When he answered his voice took on a different tone, something close to longing and hopeless heartache. She knew of his crush on her – had known it for years – but he suddenly looked so vulnerable in that moment. He wasn't looking at her, but she could tell he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. He wasn't answering in the name of Superman. He was answering for _himself._ Clark Kent appreciated Richard sticking with her and taking care of her. Clark was grateful that someone with Richard's character provided for her and looked after her. And even though he hadn't known about Jason, there was little doubt in her mind that Clark would have done his best to be Jason's 'best buddy'. He had certainly turned out to be when Richard left and Jason was without a father figure.

She gasped in surprise, but hid it by taking another sip of her wine. When had she ever thought of Clark Kent as a father figure, particularly to her own son?

Another startling thought followed that one: why was the thought of Clark being appreciative so attractive?

Clark Kent? _Attractive?_

She drained the rest of her wine.

"Y-you might want to be careful, Lois. You've been doing that a lot."

Doing her best to seem nonchalant, she waved the glass at him as she placed it on the coffee table. "Don't worry, Clark. You specifically told me no more after that last glass. If I'm going to be able to teach Jason anything about obeying, I might as well learn to do it too." Suddenly wanting to turn the conversation away from herself, she turned and faced Clark. "What about you? Have you ever been alone on Valentine's Day?"

His surprised expression made her mentally smack her forehead. _You idiot. What's the most inconsiderate thing you can possibly think to ask Clark Kent about Valentine's Day?_ "Oh God, Clark, I'm sorry. Of course you've never been alone on Valentine's Day. You always had the cows, goats and the chickens, right?"

_You're two-for-two, Lois. Would you like to try again?_

When she fumbled for something else to say, he merely chuckled, holding up a hand to silence her. "It's okay, Lois. I know you think that it's impossible for a hayseed to be involved in a relationship."

"No, I don't! It's just…" His eyebrows shot into his hairline for the second time that evening. Closing her eyes, she paused and tried to gather her thoughts. "What I meant was--"

"Yes."

She looked at him.

"I've been alone before."

His outright honesty stunned her into silence. A small grin was playing on his face at her reaction. "I know that's hard to believe. You probably think I have a fondness for a certain cow back home or something."

"Was it after your dad died?"

His grin faded. His face held complete surprise, and the amused light that was in his eyes died. "You remembered that?"

"Of course I did. We caught up that afternoon, remember?"

"I remember." He bashfully looked down at his hands, the strands of his hair hiding his eyes. "I just didn't know if you would."

"You mean more to me than you think you do."

Slowly, his head lifted and his eyes met hers. A spark passed between them then, and while both recognized it for what it was, neither chose to openly say anything. Instead, keeping her meaningful gaze locked with his, Lois said quietly, "What happened?"

Clark sighed deeply. The subject was obviously still hard for him to talk about, despite the assurance he gave her so long ago. "It was the first without him," he began, his tone deepening as he spoke, his words quiet and thoughtful. "Mom wanted to visit his grave that year, and I didn't feel up to it yet. She left in the early evening, and I had the house to myself for several hours. I did my chores, did my homework… by the time dusk came along I was sitting on the front porch drinking lemonade and watching the colors of the sky fade into the night." He paused. "There was a Valentine's Day Dance at the high school that night. I was the only one who wasn't there." He chuckled mirthlessly. "It was terrible timing. Dad died so suddenly, so quickly, and here it was, February, and we still weren't over it. I couldn't bring myself to show up. Not that it would have mattered." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and took a sip of his wine.

Lois watched him carefully, wanting to be sensitive to his feelings but curious all the same. "After that?"

"It was always Mom and me after that."

"No one else?"

He shook his head. "No."

His short answer wasn't like him. He seemed so distant suddenly, like he was lost in a memory that tormented him day and night. Only the slight movement of his hands, gently stirring the wine in his glass, assured her that he was still with her in some way. Then, as quickly as it settled, it was gone. He took another sip of his wine and looked at her with a polite smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dampen the mood."

"Clark, you don't have anything to be sorry about. If nothing else, you've just shown me that we're more alike than we realize."

"Sitting alone drowning our thoughts with beverages on Valentine's Day. Except I had a glass of lemonade for my story." A small grin started to climb on his face. "Lemonade is a sugary drink where you take a slice of lemon and--"

"I know what lemonade is, thank you very much." She reached out and swatted him.

"Just making sure. You were the one who thought I had affectionate feelings for a cow."

"Correction: _you _were the one who mentioned affectionate feelings for a barnyard animal."

"You were thinking it."

"You're delusional."

The two sat staring at each other, matching grins on their faces as the mood lifted at their banter. When had it become so easy to talk to him, to exchange words knowing that a witty response would soon follow? An intelligent man, not an absent-minded hayseed, possessed those striking blue eyes of his. _Since when were Clark's eyes _striking? His smile was an amazing peek into his emotions – the slightest when he was amused, and a bright one that lit up his face when she…

When _she…_

Suddenly, it all made sense. The reporter in her was frustrated that she hadn't seen it before, but looking at his gentle smile and affectionate gaze only confirmed it: Clark Kent didn't just have a crush on her. He was _in love with her_.

And how did she choose to respond to this over the years? With name-calling, rejection, ignoring him when he did something nice for her, using him to get that extra angle she couldn't get so that _her_ name would be on the byline instead of _his_. He did everything she asked without a second thought or complaint. He jumped in to help out when Richard left. He became the father figure Jason needed.

Why was it that the term 'father figure' came so easily to her thoughts now?

_Oh, God… I'm attracted to Clark. I'm feeling bad about all the things I've done to him over the years. Fawning over Superman, ignoring him when he came back from his trip, treating him the same way I did before he left… and he's done nothing but take it all, knowing that might have been the most attention he was going to get for the day. Oh, Clark…_

It only complicated her relationship with Superman even more, but now she didn't care. Superman wasn't sitting in her living room sharing a bottle of wine on Valentine's Day. Clark was. And even though she knew her feelings for Superman were undeniable, she couldn't resist the pull she was feeling for Clark.

_God, why did I drain that last glass of wine?_

As the silence dragged on, she watched Clark finish his wine and set the glass on the coffee table. Sitting there next to the bag of Conversation Hearts was the rose he had gotten her. He picked it up and twirled it between his fingers, just as she had done earlier, then handed it to her again with more confidence and a smile. She took it from his fingers. "I suppose I should be going. I don't want to be intruding."

That got her attention quickly. She watched him stand and adjust his blazer, turning to her with a court nod, then making his way to the closet to get his jacket.

Something inside of her ached. The good friend she had acquired several years ago suddenly meant more to her than he realized, and he felt like he was… intruding? A voice was screaming within her, saying that he was doing anything but, that his comforting presence was more than welcome anytime he wished it. If he wanted to be closer to her, he had her permission.

Though, he didn't know that. Not really. And simple words never did Clark Kent justice. It might have at one time, but…

Superman or no, Lois knew what the ache inside meant – Clark shouldn't be leaving her house without knowing he could come back anytime he pleased. Not because he wanted to, but because _she_ wanted him to.

"Clark, wait."

He stopped in the threshold of the living room, its long, curved arch casting shadows across his face. She stood and walked in front of him, blocking him from getting away from her. "I wanted to tell you," she started quietly, staring deeply into his confused eyes. "You are more than welcome here anytime you want."

A warm smile was her response. "Really?"

"Anytime. You're not intruding. Not ever." She took a step closer to him. "Not really." How many times had she made him feel like he did as a boy, sitting on his porch while others celebrated the holiday accordingly? Rejected, alone… no longer. And if the Superman issue somehow got in the way…

She refused to think about that. When she took another step towards him, he took a step back. She took one forward. He took one back. Twice they repeated this until his back was against the wall of the arch. He wasn't looking at her with wide eyes like she expected. Instead, his look was rather intense, incredible relief mixed with… something else.

"You're always welcome here," she said again. She took a final step, pleased that he couldn't back out. She lifted her hands. "I'm just trying to give you a hug, Clark. I'm not going to rob you."

He looked at his clenched fists as if noticing them for the first time. He chuckled nervously, her close proximity obviously doing something to him. Did he know he was affecting her? God knew she was aware of it. She never knew how thick his hair looked, how strong his jaw was, or noticed that scent that was undeniably him. His height was certainly appreciated, though she had to link her arms around his neck to be able to get any response from him. His hands hesitantly rested on her shoulder blades, high enough to be modest but nowhere near to her liking. At least he was holding her in some way. Being this close to him, feeling the hidden strength he possessed and the texture of his hair, was making her head spin. Pulling back just a bit, she put her lips near his ear. "You're never going to be alone again. Not if I can help it."

She wondered if he had caught that she hadn't mentioned Valentine's Day specifically. If he did, he didn't show it. Resisting the urge to briefly run her fingers through the hair at his neck, she pulled back slightly…

… At the exact moment he did the same. Stunned at their movement, the two froze at the same time as well, their faces inches apart. The frames of his glasses were just inches from her own face. She could feel his breath from his parted lips, his eyes taking in every feature on her face before, nervously yet courageously, meeting her own. The spark they both had felt earlier intensified. Standing so close together, with his face inches away and his lips begging to be touched…

With all the boldness she could muster, Lois stretched just a little higher, moving her head forward. The breath from his lips got warmer and closer, until she was gently pressing her own against his open mouth.

His response was about as active as the sturdy wall behind him. He was absolutely rigid; his hands were still on her shoulder blades, but his strong form slowly began to tremble, betraying the stunned look on his face. When his lips slowly closed over hers, returning her kiss, she wondered if he had ever done this before. The thought made her pull back to look at his face, suddenly wondering if this was okay to do. He was still trembling, his breath coming out in shudders, but nothing in his eyes told her to stop what she was doing. Her lips turning upward in a smile, she removed her arms from around his neck and placed her hands on his face, gently caressing his skin before reaching forward again.

This time he was a little more prepared, leaning down to meet her lips. The hands on her shoulder blades became just a little more bold, gently trailing down her back, fingers dancing across her spine through the thin fabric of her shirt, making _her_ tremble. Just before they reached the small of her back they pulled up again. He was being bold, but still hesitant, his natural modesty warring with his growing interest in her persistent kisses. Could he be thinking about her feelings and relationship with Superman? At a time like _this_? Had she not been busy paying attention to his bottom lip, trying to coax him to be a little bolder, she would have smacked him.

One of her arms had made its way back around his neck, but the other still rested on his face. As much as his gentle kisses where making her dizzy, she had to let him know she was kissing Clark Kent in this moment, not some hallucination brought on by a few drinks. Mumbling his name around his lips, she hooked her thumb around the frames of his glasses and lifted them.

He jerked back. His warmth lost, his kisses gone, she felt oddly numbed and a little hurt. She opened her eyes. He had pulled back, but not too far, one hand reaching up to gently hold hers, removing it from her face. All at once, she recognized the shy, stuttering voice when he mumbled, "I-I'm blind as a bat without them…" Whatever confidence he might have attained was slowly fading, but his thumb tenderly stroked the back of her hand as he brought it down and away from his face.

His words sounded like a pathetic excuse to her. Even when he placed it by her side, he was still holding her hand, still rubbing his thumb across her knuckles, still making her dizzy with his closeness. He could have said anything in that moment, and she wouldn't have cared. Gently smiling at him, she moved ever closer 'til she was standing flush against him. "Okay," she whispered, but it was more assurance than anything else. _I won't do anything to startle you. You're safe with me. _"Okay," she said once more, before kissing him again. The hand that was at her side lifted, threading through his jacket to pull him closer, deepening the kiss yet again.

This time he _was_ ready. The arms and hands that were once so hesitant confidently wound their way around her back. The lips that were once uncertain and stiff were now kissing her back hungrily, as if he had desired to do this for so long. Who would have known that Clark Kent, of all people, would have been such an amazing kisser after only a few tries? She sighed into his mouth, lost in the feel of his kisses as one of his hands ran over her back while another tenderly cradled her head, fingers gently gripping the fabric of her shirt. He was feeling the same intensity she was. Did they always have this hidden chemistry between them, this suddenly overwhelming desire for the other? It was a startling, though pleasurable, realization. She was surprised she could think coherently enough to come to the conclusion.

Despite the drugging intensity of his kiss, she knew they now had some things they needed to talk about. Knowing she was going to hate herself later for stopping, she slowly pulled back, breaking their contact. He barely moved, his eyes cloudy and dazed, lost in his own flood of feelings and desire… for her. When the two made eye contact, their spark turned into a flame.

Then, as suddenly as it was there, it turned to something else. They began to chuckle, the startling new feelings between them profoundly joyous and amazing. Her smile grew as his lit up his face. Then she couldn't resist asking the question she had been wondering earlier. "Was that your first kiss?"

He gulped, his face turning red. His shyness was adorable. "Uh… not really," he said quietly. If she hadn't still been so close, he would have ducked his head.

"You're an amazing kisser."

Her honesty made him turn an even deeper shade of crimson. "So are you."

She couldn't resist any longer. Wrapping her arms around his back, enjoying the warmth she found beneath his blazer, she rested her head on his shoulder and relaxed into him, sighing with complete contentment she hadn't felt in months. When he held her tighter and rested his chin on the top of her head, she closed her eyes in bliss. "What brought this up, all of a sudden?" he asked quietly. His voice was a rumble in her ear.

"I decided I was tired of seeing you alone all the time. You've become such a valuable friend, Clark." _Friend_ sounded too light of a word. Hoping he'd hear the humor in her voice, she added, "And after a kiss like that, I hope you become something more."

His chest vibrated, an inaudible chuckle. He seemed hesitant to say whatever was on his mind, but when he finally did, she could hear the slight edge of fear in his voice. "What about Superman?"

She cuddled closer to him, loving the way he slightly shuddered when she ran a hand down his back. "I'll deal with Superman when the time comes."

He paused. "You aren't drunk, are you?"

The tone of his voice broke her heart. He was honestly expecting this to be a dream, that he'd wake up tomorrow morning and find them back at square one, crushed over another fantasy his imagination had created. Lifting her head to face him, she gently rubbed her nose against his. She stared him in the eyes for several seconds straight. "No," she said, quietly but firmly.

He sighed deeply. Lifting his arms from her back, he put enough space between then to grab his glasses by the frames, slowly pulling them off his face. The seriousness in his eyes nearly made her giggle – for all of his attempts at being a dashing man, she was going to have a hard time shaking the image of the nerd off of her mind. Slowly folding the frames, he pocketed his glasses into his blazer. Then he cupped her face in his hands.

"Don't be angry," was his only warning. Angling his head, he kissed her in a way that proved he had _definitely_ done this before, and had all the confidence he needed to make her swoon. His lips moved smoothly over hers, coaxing her to follow his lead. If the kiss before left her dizzy, this one made her drunk – her legs were turning into jelly, and she didn't know how much longer she could clutch his back before her arms gave out under the power. When he pulled back she whimpered, missing his warmth already. Oh, yes; Clark Kent had learned from their kiss earlier…

His grip around her tightened. Finally thinking coherent thoughts, she gave him a heavy-lidded gaze. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

His face held utter seriousness. "With you."

"Just now? You're a quick learner."

"Lois, just now… that wasn't the first time we've kissed."

As soon as he finished speaking, she felt dizzy. This time around, it had nothing to do with pent-up desire and revelations of hidden feelings. Her head fell to his shoulder, groaning slightly as she felt a headache creep up on her. Suddenly it felt as though he was _lifting_ her up instead of holding her.

That's when the memories returned. Like a giant broom sweeping over the dust of her mind, she could suddenly clearly remember things that had been so vague, so fuzzy in her memory. The assignment they had done in Niagara Falls _wasn't_ a prank played on them by fellow _Planet_ workers. Everything that she remembered was accurate save for one glaring detail – Clark had fallen into the fire pit at the hotel.

And was unharmed.

When he had turned to face her, there was nothing resembling the bumbling reporter she knew so well. And when she spoke the words to his face…

_"You_ are_ Superman!"_

Then he told her everything, taking her to his magnificent Fortress and showing her his heritage. He made her dinner, telling her that everything in his life was now clear simply because they were together. He defied his own destiny to be with her, giving up his abilities to spend a lifetime with her. A mortal lifetime. Words, her most reliable source of expression, failed her.

Then he had taken her to a room deep within the Fortress. A room with a broad tall ceiling and a circular bed in the middle, covered with silver sheets… sheets that had been cool to the touch, their satin texture a wondrous comfort when he had leaned in to kiss her deeply…

_How could I have forgotten a memory like _that

He had kissed her deeply… the same kiss he had used when he openly kissed her at the _Planet_, making feel just as dizzy as she did now…

She gasped. Pulling away from him completely, she realized that it all made sense. His concern for her well-being, his attention to Jason… but the assumption couldn't be made without evidence. She had learned that a long time ago.

Feeling her anger steadily rise, she took the step toward him that she had taken back moments ago. She looked at his face, a symphony of emotions and thoughts flooding his eyes as he stared back at her. He was breathing deep, shuddering breaths. His hands remained at his side.

How did she not notice it before? If she just pulled his hair back, she could see the resemblance. The only thing hiding him now was the buttons of his suit…

Reaching forward, she took a button of his blazer and slipped it through the hole.

"Lois?"

Ignoring him, she slowly undid the rest of the buttons on his jacket, clenching her jaw when she saw the vest right underneath it. She went to work right away, undoing those with a quicker pace. When she had finished, she brushed the fabric aside. Her eyes trailed the length of his tie, avoiding the pointed stare he was giving her, stopping at the knot at his neckline.

Suddenly this task was more frightening than she thought it would be. With trembling fingers, she snaked them through the knot, expertly undoing it and letting it hang loosely around his neck. Avoiding any contact with his flesh, she undid the highest button. The hint of blue fabric peeping from under his oxford made her quietly seethe.

_My God, you've got to be kidding me. If this is some kind of joke, Clark Kent, I _swear…

Irritated with the way his breathing seemed to deepen, she quickly undid more buttons 'til she was nearly at his belt buckle. Gripping the edges of his shirt tightly, she yanked it open, ready to unleash her anger at the blue shirt she was sure was underneath.

Instead, her eyes met the bright red of the S on his chest, weaving its way through a sea of yellow inside of the diamond shape. She pulled her hands back quickly as if she'd been burned.

"Oh my God…"

* * *

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